

PS 





>,JiAy'yi^^\JLA>o{^ 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND, 



A LYRICAL DRAMA 



L. B. PEMBERTON. 



DRAMATIS PERSON^^. 

Prometheus. Mountain Nymphs. 

Hercules. Naiades. 

Demeter. Dryades. 

The Muses. Hesperides. 

Eonian Nymphs. Nymphs of the Air. 

Invisible Spirits of Evil. Spirits of the Deep. 

Scene — A wild and desolate peak in the Caucasus Mountains. 



rs->->r^^^H^H' 



FRANKLIN, OHIO: 

THE EDITOR PUBWSHING COMPANY. 
1896. 



1 






'Of 



Copyright, 1896, 

The Editor Pubi.ishing Company, 
franki^in, ohio. 



PREFACE 



Of all the fables of antiquity, the legend of Prometheus has 
ever attracted considerable attention, not only on account of its 
great beauty — for many others are perhaps even more justly 
celebrated in this respect ; but also because of a sublimity of 
conception and simplicity of treatment barely approached in 
any of the others. 

Here we realize that we have been brought into contact with 
a character whom we take pleasure in remembering, and whom 
we can scarcely forget. 

Of late years an extended and scholarly inquiry has been 
made into the meaning and origin of these old-time myths, and 
it was in casually looking over the result of some of these in- 
vestigations that I was struck more forcibly than ever with the 
full scope and significance of this particular legend. 

The grandeur of the brave old Titan as he defied the anger 
of the tyrant gods and resolutely maintained his affection and 
anxiety for the poor race of oppressed mortals — who, under his 
careful guidance, had increased and prospered, but were now 
threatened with extermination, — all this is a picture which in- 
vites our consideration and commands our admiration. 

Be it blasphemous or not, I am forced to admit that the whole 
story seemed to me an ideal exemplification of that eternal 
struggle between man and his fate — his hopes and aspirations 
matched against that inevitable power that baffles his best 
efforts and continually renders his exertions for the most. part 
in vain. 



4 PREFACE. 

Prometheus — who, with the Greeks, was the God of Fore- 
thought — to me looked more aptly the Spirit of Progress, des- 
tined at last, after ages of bitter struggles and keenest suffering, 

•' To lead the upward-tending world, 
Thro' glorious futures, onward to perfection." 

According to the legend, this onward movement of the 
human race was, in this olden time, indefinitely deferred on 
account of the confinement of its leader, Prometheus, who had 
been condemned to lie for ages on a remote peak of the Cau- 
casus. From this condition it seems there was absolutely no 
escape until from the West a champion should come, break the 
chains of tyranny, and set Prometheus free forever. 

The champion prophesied for this event was Hercules, which 
still further strengthened the analogy in my own mind, as it 
naturally recalled the fact that Franklin had aptly chosen Her- 
cules as the emblem of the infant republics of America. 

Looking at the whole subject from a nineteenth century 
standpoint, and through the glamour of a republican atmos- 
phere, the legend now took upon itself the following inter- 
pretation : 

Prometheus became the God of Progress, attended by the 
nymphs of Liberty. He had been left to languish for ages in 
the remote mountain fastnesses — unnoticed by "these so-called 
gods reputed of superior mould." But now from that far- 
distant land beyond the " Islands of the Blest," a champion 
arises with a new dictum — " that all men are created equal a?id 
endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights — among 
which are life, liberty, ayid the pursuit of happiness'' This truth 
is too new for its real significance to be fully appreciated at the 
present time ; but as the swiftly-rolling years recede, this event 



PREFACE. 5 

will rise into bolder prominence and be recognized as one of 
the most important landmarks in the history of the world. 

No extensive claims are set up for the following essay — to 
which these few words are intended as a preface, — as no at- 
tempt has been made either to reproduce the lost play of 
^schjdus or to imitate those other equally-splendid poems of 
later times bearing upon the same subject ; but it is sent forth 
simply as an effort of academic days, when, daily worried with 
Greek accents and inflections while conning over 

' ' The glory that was Greece 
And the grandeur that was Rome," 

one naturally feels like seeking relief from the one by vainly 
striving after the other. 

With these few remarks, showing the plan and nature of the 
work, the reader, if curious, is invited to proceed. 



ACT I. 

Scene — A wild and desolate peak in the Caucasus Mountains. Prome- 
theus is discovered, bound to a rocky cliff, where for ages he has 
lain confined. 

Prometheus (solus). 

Ah, miserable me ! thus doomed by Fate 

And heaven's unjust decree to linger out 

An everlasting life — sons of woe, 

Constrained to this high rock with massive chains 

Of iron and adamant, stronger than man 

Or mortal strength could ever hope to bear. 

O thou, bright Sun ! whose swift, unfettered beams 

Earth and the depths of air doth permeate ; 

Thou gentle Wind ! that with unhindered course 

Glides o'er the fruitful land and wave-crisped sea ; 

And ye bright Stars ! that o'er my bended head 

Shine nightly in unnumbered throng, look down 

Upon me in my woe — e'en tho' thy glance 

Doth pierce and burn me to the core with shame 

Of my condition, once as free as thine. 

Grant ye, at least, from these unanswering depths 

Of desert air that swallow up my groans 

And cries, some breath of sympathy may spring ; 

Let me but feel, ye friendly elements. 

Some other soul beats kindly to mine own. 

And fain would share some burden of my woe. 

And yet I grieve not for the pain I feel. 

That racks this wasted form of mine — wasted, 

Alas ! for ages — but immortal still ; 

Nor does my spirit moan the glorious shame 

Of these huge chains that bind me to the earth — 

All these a soul like mine can scorn ; but here's 

The groan that rends my heart — to lie abject, 

Supine, bound hand and foot, twixt earth and heaven. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Yet forced to waste in idleness the days 

And years away — this is the fiercest hell 

A proud, ambitious soul can ever feel. 

'Tis this that makes my pain no pain at all, 

But still unbearable ; 'tis this that loads 

M)^ chains with double strength and makes their weight 

So galling. 

Oh ! to expand this cramp'd chest, 
Stretch out these close, contracted limbs, to take 
But one short step upon the soft, green earth, 
Erect and free— as gods and men should be — 
'Twere better than a whole eternity 
Of this inert decrepitude. 

Ah, me ! 
Why was it thus that I should suffer worse 
Than death, and yet could never die ? But soft ! 
E'en sorrow hath its joys, and dear they are — 
Because so few — and few because so dear. 
By gentle whir of drooping wings, I know 
The dear companions of my woe approach, 
And with their presence bring a joy that soothes 
And dulls the edge of all my suffering. 
Thrice many thousand times hath yonder Sun 
His daily round performed, and in his course 
Ruthlessly scattered ruin and decay ; 
But ever at my side with hopeful words 
These high-browed maidens of the mountain sit — 
The champions of m}^ cause ; and thus we see 
Oft-times upon the cold gray rocks of woe 
There blooms the tender flower of joy. 

Chorus. Hail ! hail ! we welcome thee, 

Although we shudder as we see 
Again thy frown of agony. 
Ah, me ! that gods must feel and know 
The grinding heel, the curse and blow 
Of tyranny. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Echo. Thro' the clear air we heard you speak, 

With bated breath, 
Thoughts that made our hearts grow weak. 

Dream'st thou of Death ? 
Keep not from us the jewels of your mind, 
But speak the wisdom we ourselves could never find. 

Pro. The thoughts 

That stirred my breast, whose echoes ye have heard, 

Are not so doleful as they seem, though death. 

Perchance, should be their theme. To mortal eyes 

Death is the height of all calamities. 

Alas ! how gladly would I now cast off 

This outward cloak of harrowing renown, 

And deem it highest joy to cease this life 

And sink my woes in Lethe's oblivious waves. 

If mankind knew the burden and the pain 

Of this unceasing immortality, 

They would not raise such loud and piteous moan 

For what soon tires, but ne'er can be disowned. 

Echo. How sweet the sleep of Death 

To those who have no fear, 
Who calmly yield their latest breath, 
And sink to rest, 
Like babes at breast, 
Without a pang, without a tear. 

Hyale. How hard the bitter lot 

Of poor mortality, 
If toil and suffering were not 
Cut short by Death's decree, 
When fretful mind 
Is left behind 
With pain and strife and penury ! 

Chorus. Oh ! who would not down life's small stream 
Sail out upon the azure Ocean, 
Entranced in Death's delightful dream. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



To the source of being and of motion ? 
Who would not keep 
The hallowed sleep 
That crowns a life of pure devotion ? 

Nephele. In death what can we lose ? 

For life, 
Bound to this earth 

In strife 
To toil, or worse — to use 
The days of dearth 
For naught of worth — 
Has nothing much to lose. 

Pro. To me death were a joy unspeakable 

Had it been so decreed that I should lie 
Forever clinched to this seamed precipice, 
For benefits no needy man bestowed; 
But thus throughout the ages has it been — 
Whoe'er on man has showered a precious gift 
Has drunk the cup of sorrow in return. 

O Death ! thou magic and undying sleep 
That cures at last the deepest wounds of pain 
And woe, enwrapped in thy caressing arms, 
O what a heav'n of everlasting dreams 
Our disembodied senses doth embrace 
And soothe to endless and ecstatic bliss ! 

Chorus. Death, physician to mankind, 

Who heals the woes of troubled mind ; 
Restores the deaf, the dumb, the blind ; 
Who keeps the keys to towers high 
Wherefrom the soul at last may spy 
The meaning of life's mystery ; 
Releaser from fatigue and pain, 
None ever asks thy aid in vain — 
Tho' many reap unsought thy gain. 
'Tis not so strange that those who weep 
Seek death for that sweet, quiet sleep 
Which, while on earth, they can not keep. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. ' ii 



Pro. This suffering of mine shall have its end ; 
These sad and heavy eyes of mine are not 
From pining sadness due — they but reflect 
That dim and immaterial world whose dreams 
Become the stern realities and facts 
Of future time. 

Chorus. Nay ! nay ! but tell us all. 

Shall something worse befall 

To give thee cause for grief? 
Our hearts are torn for thee— 
Unless we mourn for thee 
We can not find relief. 

Pro. Know, then, there is a world 

Within us and about us, which the eyes 
Of common kind do not as yet discern. 
Like clumsy boulders in a tinkling stream, 
Some souls ne'er feel the subtle waves that surge 
From center to circumference of this 
Great Spirit- World. Here dwell the finer joys 
That taste of heaven, and here the deeper thoughts 
Whence spring and flow in swift, concentric waves 
The sterner truths that strike the heart of man. 
'Tis this unseen, unreal world that is 
Of all things — ay ! the only thing that's real, 
Tho' hid within a coarse and outer growth 
Of universal falsehoods and enigmas. 

Chorus. O world mysterious, 

Thou art so near to us 
We would know more of thee ; 
Thou art more, it seems, 
Than a realm for dreams, 
And keepest in store 
The deeper lore 
Of truth and destiny. 



ta PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Pro. By these prophetic eyes — whose joy 't has been 
To watch the massing clouds, the drift and flow 
Of these dim agencies whose mingling forms 
Bring forth the varying offspring of events— 
I see strange happenings, undreamed-of things, 
That still lie deep within the womb of time. 

Chorus. Down thro' the circling years of time 

Thou hast seen all ; 
And many things perhaps sublime 

Thou couldst recall 
Whose meaning we could not divine. 

Thy watchful eye 

Not only viewed 

The savage land 
Fruitful become and beautify, 
But, with thy helping hand, 

Saw cities rise 

From hovels rude ; 

Under thy care, 

Dull man grow wise, 

And wealth increase 

Thro' toils of war 

And spoils of peace ; 
But long aeons before 
When first old Chaos bore 

To love a child 
Whose mother — when she knew 
The child she'd brought to view, 

And that it smiled— 

With horror filled, 
Shrieking perished in her pain,— 
When Order into being came. 
All this and more hast thou beheld, 
Which are the treasures of the Kid. 
Pray tell us of the long-gone -by, 
For 'tis a garden to our eye. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 15 



Pro. The Past, methinks, is an unfruitful theme, 
Unless the telling o'er^may teach us how 
To read the Future or to comprehend 
The Now. 1;^ Much as the mind may love to learn, 
Wisdom must oft to pleasure yield the palm ; 
For idlest folly is at times more wise 
Than foolish wisdom. "^ But the time drags on— 
My leisure hours are lengthened into years — 
And as the looking o'er those far-off scenes 
May make us overleap our present woe, 
Say what thou'dst know and gladly I will tell. 

Chorus. Almighty Mind — 

That backward throws 
Thy glance to when from Chaos blind 
And Night's black heart 
The universe arose — 

How wonderful thou art ! 

Pro. Boldly against the rise and wreck of worlds 

The human Mind stands forth, sublime, steadfast, 
Alone ! The seasons come and go ; men live 
And die and cease to be ; new worlds are born, 
Grow into beauty, wither and decay ; 
The stars spring forth, then fall and fade away. 
And yet, thro' all this mighty, ceaseless change, 
The Mind as if from some high eminence 
Looks calmly on, unmoved, unaltered still. 

Chorus. Wonders of all wonders on earth. 

From thee they all have their birth. 

Pro. And yet how different the view to him 

Who from some tall unsheltered height surveys 
The scene entire, compared to one close by, 
Who in the valley toils and merely sees 
The narrow stream as it rolls nearly by. 

Ere man, or earth, or starry sky, I was, 
And from the whirling elemental mass 



14 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Of Chaos saw one by one the seething worlds 
Go spinning on their everlasting course, 
Till all the azure archway of the skies 
Was fretted o'er with fair and radiant stars. 

Oh ! what a glorious sight 'twas then to view, 

Adown the long, illumined avenues 

Of space, the onward train of endless worlds. 

The first great step was taken, and the march 

Of evolution had at last begun ! 

The bud of life had bursted, and its leaves 

Began to peep beyond the husk and shell. 

Ere long on these infinitesimal spheres. 
Which writhing suns when in their agony 
Threw madly off — of which our earth is one — 
Behold ! the cooling rocks crumble, decay, 
And soon luxuriant foliage springs forth — 
Grasses, and trees, sweet herbs, and finer flowers : 
Then later, crude, half-shapeless moving things 
Were seen — precursors of the human form ! 

Ages on ages passed, and then we see 
Those upright figures who have lately been 
Like human beings wand'ring here and there — 
Whose gaze was ever upward and above them — 
In their bewildered minds at last had dawned 
An inner light unlike the glare of noon 
Or gleam of night — the God within now stood 
Revealed ! 

The Ego of eternity, 
That had indwelt and woven out the forms 
Of ever finer, still-unfolding life. 
Now, thro' the thinner, fair envelopment 
Of human flesh, shone forth at last — divine ! 
Creation was complete ! It was for this 
That Chaos groaned, and fiery suns were cooled — 
That on this quiet and out-lying world 
Might germinate the last and highest fruit 
Of all creative toil — the human Soul ! 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 15 



Chorus. O grand triumphal hour ! 

When man first felt the inner power 

Of consciousness revealed ; 
When low, brutish desires 
Are purged by purer, holier fires 

Ere then in man concealed. 

Pro. By slow and tedious steps I then taught men 

To reap the fruit of knowledge — which is wisdom 

Beneath my watchful guidance, too, began 

The useful arts and sciences to flourish ; 

But now the tyrant Zeus doth seek to stay 

My course, and crush man from the earth forever. 

Chorus. And yet with sorrow's clearer eye, 

And mind replete 

With varied memory, 
The clothed moments fly 

More unperceived by, 

And seemingly more fleet. 
While every hour can borrow 

From out the Past some gleam, 
There's little room for sorrow — 

Unless it's too, a dream. 

Pro. All this and more I have beheld, and know 
Wherewith to profit by. But here I lie — 
Bound by the haughty will of Zeus thro' Fate — 
On this huge rock, unmoved, immoveable. 

Chorus. Is not th}^ miserable state 

The fruit alone of Zeus' hate ? 

Pro. These present Gods are like the summer's wind — 
A little gust which blows, and then is not. 
There is a mighty Power that lives behind 
And moves this vast, majestic universe ; 
Wrapped in its own impenetrable mind 
Reposes some deep, everlasting scheme — 
Too great for finite minds to apprehend. 



i6 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



This scheme lies at the root of all existence, 
Brought systems forth and order out of Chaos. 
All is controlled by Fate, the stern compeller, 
The source of mind, phenomena, and life. 
Within the circle of its vision keen 
Has ever widened the concentric waves 
Of human thought and action. 

Chorus. Now my mind with fervor burns. 

Now my clearer eye discerns 

The purpose and the plan. 
At last we can, tho' dimly, see 
An all-controlling Deity 

Whose hopes converge in Man. 

Pro. Yet for me 

Is endless pain and gloom and misery. 
Alas ! must this wide earth beneath me be 
The toy and plaything of the petty few — 
Those puny, petted nurslings of the skies — 
And forced to 3-ield always to their mad whims ? 
Shall god-like Man, whom I have nourished, be 
By these new Gods destroyed, and Tyranny 
Forever reign supreme ? 

I who have seen 
All things, can only pause and answer — Why? 
And yet I have but lately grown to doubt 
What most I had believed, believe whate'er 
Before was dovibted— only to doubt again 
As soon as 'twas believed. 

Alas ! the day 
Seems ever darker than the night it ends, 
And night more gloomy than the morning past. 
And yet, alas ! I must endure. 

Chorus. All things will yet be well ; 

'Tis only for a spell 
That cloiids can hide the sun. 
Behind the night's thick gloom 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 17 



The sun lies, and the moon 
And stars must vanish one by one. 
Thus roll 
The days and years away ; the roseate dreams 
Of years ago have withered and decayed ; 
Bright hopes and splendid futures have become 
Sepulchral mounds and monuments to mark 
The dim and shadowy outlines of the past. 
Alas ! that we should ever rise on heaps 
Of shattered hopes. My soul, that early chose 
A glorious course, now feels its tired wings 
Weighed down with clay, and seeks no more to' soar. 
Night, with its gloom, blots out another day, 
And still for me no sign — no help — no hope. 



i8 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



ACT 11. 

Scene — Same as in Act I. Demeter and her Nymphs call upon Pro- 
metheus, complaining of the unfruit fulness of the earth and the 
general discontent of Man. 

Chorus. Hail ! hail ! all hail to thee, 

Great mother of Persephone, 
Who makes the harsh and rugged soil 
Yield to the laborer's honest toil ; 
Who follows round the plodding plow, 
And crowns the faith of those who sow, 
With harvests bright of ample yield ; 
O thou, whose hope is in the field, 
Whose care is those who therein ply 
Th' unvaried arts of industry. 
Thy mighty power we revere — 
Beneficent Earth-mother dear ! 

Dryades. To thee we come, 

, Thou Titan-son, 

Who, chained to this dread, lonely rock. 

Has long defied 

The tyrant's pride. 
Endured the storm and earthquake shock ; 
Tho' all their chains could not confine 
One thought in that proud breast of thine, 
Nor bind e'en those who at thy shrine 
With thoughts of Liberty incline. 

Alas ! what wealth and time 
The world lost in its prime ! 
What store it might have gained 
Had Prometheus been unchained ! 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND, 19 



Oil ! how we mourn for thee, 

To see thee lie 

Abject and torn 
Beneath the fangs of Tyranny. 

Pro. The joy I feel at thy approach is less, 

Perhaps, than it should seem ; for sudden Shame 
Crowds all my better feelings back, and Fear 
Unchecked would know what great and equal cause 
Could urge thee to so perilous a journey ? 

Demeter. 

Grieve not to me, God most beneficent. 

For what thou seemest to be nor what thou art. 

I know thee, and familiar is the cause 

Unjust that leads to thy discomfiture — 

The fault is not thine own, and those who bear 

The fruit of others' faults should not be shamed ; 

Besides, I have good cause for vent'ring hither. 

Pro. Much do I crave to know and 5^et I fear 

These heartless tyrants have some newer form 
Of tyranny devised — I dread to hear ! 

Demeter. 

Alas ! 'tis deeper than mere outward form — 
The malady lies at the root of things ; 
The soil concedes no more its wonted yield — 
The fruit blights in the blossom and the leaves 
Fall slowly crisp and crumbling to the ground. 
For long the heavens have refused to give 
One drop of moist'ning dew or rain ; of late 
Despondent man has ceased his usual toil 
And slowly waits his sure extermination. 

Dryades. Our abode is stripped of its leaves, 
It stands deserted and bare ; 
The earth no moisture receives, 
But burns in the hot sun's glare. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Naiades. The streams grow shallow and dry, 
We soon must away from them flee 
Unless the Gods hear our cry— 
They surely our misery see. 

Nymphs of the Air. 

The air is parched and hot, 

Our gaspings are slower and fewer; 
Unless relief soon is brought 

We can not much longer endure. 

Chorus. The future as the Past is blind- 

No cause, no course, no end; 
All things to nothing tend— 
Prometheus is confined ! 

O Earth ! O Time ! O Mind ! 

O Life ! O Misery ! 

No joy, no hope we see — 
Prometheus is confined! 

Invisible Evil Spirits. 

At last the day's coming 
When Vice and Tyranny 

Shall reign supreme. 
Away, ye demons, fling 
This phantom of Liberty — 
'Tis but a dream, 
And dreams must be destroyed. 
Quick! quick! let us begin 
The long-deferred triumph of Sin — 
Earth, heaven, should be— a void ! 
Demeter. 

Ah, me ! those dreadful words, they drive despair 

Into my soul. And when I daily see 

The toiling millions blindly turn to heaven 

Their dull, despairing eyes, in vain, for hope — 

While aimlessly they wander to and fro. 

Or work to wear their useless lives away — 

My sad heart aches and tears rush in my eyes. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



21 



Dryades. Alas ! the piteous sight ! 

How sad Man's wretched plight 
When Tyranny doth reign ! 
The gifts that cheer and bless — 
Peace, joy, and happiness — 

Man seeks, but seeks in vain. 

Demeter. 

The Father groans beneath his galling load. 
Which still grows more and more o'erwhelming; 
The mother sighs with far-off, vacant look ; 
E'en babes,, with sickly voices much subdued. 
Make poor pretense of play ; while awkward youth 
Grow up to feel one dull, short pang of love 
And then — take up the burden of existence. 

O age of misery ! I pray thee tell 

Where is there cause for joy in life or love 

While wretched scenes like these agrieve the eye ? 

Dryades. O cruel Fate ! whose harsh decree 

Has chained the force. 
The cause, the source 
Of Progress and of Liberty ! 

Chorus. O cruel Fate ! we can not see 

The course and end 
Towards which we tend, 
But blindly pat our trust in thee. 



Pro. Nay ! tho' the heavens fall, do not despair ; 
There is a course, in all material things. 
That sprung indeed from Chaos, but shall not 
Thither return. I, who suffer, have learned 
To look with greater calmness and insight 
Upon the grief and suffering of others. 

I, who have taught mankind to strive with skill 
To know and pluck the ripened fruit of knowledge; 
I, who have been their counsel and their guide — 



22 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Tho' chained for ages to these mountain rocks, 
Unmoved, immovable, — I now perceive, 
Unless all signs and prophecies read wrong, 
A greater gloom, that merely doth presage 
The nearness of the morning light. Ere long 
These chains will loosen ; I shall be released 
Once more to lead the upward-tending world 
Thro' glorious futures onward to perfection. 

Dryades. O happy day ! we yet may rove 

Unhindered thro' the shadowy grove — 
Locked in the arms of those we love. 

Naiades. Then shall w-e sit by cressed stream — 
Tell o'er our loves and fondly dream. 

Chorus. O joy ! we have not hoped in vain, 

Or treasured up a fruitless cause ; 
For Right shall o'er the earth yet reign — 
Obedient to eternal laws. 

Demeter. 

Art sure these new-raised Gods will be o'erthrown ? 

Pro. Such is the will of Fate. These so-called Gods, 
Reputed of superior mould, must fall 
And bite the dust they now so much disdain. 

Demeter. 

But will the change be soon ? 

Pro. Sooner, perhaps, 

Than even dreams would dare to prophesy ; 
For daily now such mighty things are wrought, 
'Tis plain it is with no mere common means 
The Fates are working out their wondrous will. 
Today's the greatest day in history — 
It marks an onward, ne'er-o'ertaken step. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 23 

Demeter. 

But tell us why thou hast to prophet turned, 
And what good reasons lead to these forecasts ? 
For faith, altho' of higher growth than reason, 
Doth still require this lower, baser stock 
To lean upon, for then it feels secure. 

Pro. Thou hast, O Earth, but a mere atom seen 
O' the plan by which creation doth proceed. 
This earth is merely to the realms of space 
A sheltered bay for few and shallow waves 
To drift and play in, while the Ocean great 
Rolls deep beyond. Ages on ages past, 
One grand, mysterious process was begun — 
Whose final work is not yet done. At first 
It stationed suns, then moulded planets dim 
And made them fair with useful plants and flowers; 
Wove out the lower forms of moving things, 
Then more and more complex and perfect types. 
Till all at last was consummate in Man — 
Or will be when the mighty task is done. 

Demeter. 

Then not created for my care alone 
Was Man ; he is to hold a higher place — 
The climax in the series of events ! 

Pro. Faintly but firm the print is seen ; towards Man 
All things have tended since creation's dawn. 
The flow of coming ages will purge out 
The coarse and baser elements till all 
The taint of ancestry shall be effaced. 
Until the Soul shines forth— a perfect gem! 

Demeter. 

But after all these years of toil, when Time 
Has worn away the traces of his birth, 
Will he then dwell upon the earth forever? 



24 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 

Pro. Why dost thou still pursue thy questioning ? 

With knowledge oft comes sorrow. Wouldst thou drive 

The Infinite itself unto the wall, 

And call the unborn ages forth to speak 

Before their time ? 

Demeter. This only would I know ; 

For have I not the keen solicitude 
That ever lies within a mother's heart ? 
I ask but this. 

Pro. Then to thy sorrow search 

The hidden things, and learn what is to be : 
A few short years will see Man pass away — 
The earth roll cold and pulseless thro' dim spacer 
Like some sad, lonely moon — 

Demeter. O bitter Truth ! 

I know thee now too well — thou art but gall ! 
Cruel is Fate — this life not worth the toil ! 
Ah, woe is me ! not merely that I am, 
But that I know I am a thing of time — 
A creature born to struggle and to die ! 

Where is the good of these aeons of toil, 
Of struggle, pain, and slow development — 
All for a perfect hour, fleecing and vain ? 
O Truth! what mockery has called thee sweet? 
Bitter thou art ; to me, wormwood and gall ! 

Dryades. Alas ! whene'er we rise 

Upon the swell of joy, 
Our spirit sinks and dies 
E'en as the wave rolls by. 

Pro. Peace, peace, for shame ! Gods should not grieve like men- 
Altho' they be not far removed from them. 
The gloss and finish of this earthly life 
Will well be worth the toil when all is done. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 25 



A glorious end will surely be attained — 
Else all creation were a failure vast 
And all this universe most incomplete. 

To hurl the discus further at a throw, 
Or shoot the arrow nearer to the mark, 
To feel the blood flow quick from exercise- 
All nerves the human hand to still reach forth 
To pluck Perfection's rare and vaunted flower. 

Demeter. 

Indeed, most glorious does all this seem ; 
But Where's the glory that can compensate 
In any measure for a lack of living ? 

Chorus. Pray tell us more of that still distant date, 

When Man shall thrive in his perfected state. 

Pro. My words— altho' a God's— can not describe 

The more than heavenly transports of those times. 

None then would think these travail-burdened days 

Had not brought forth a most abundant fruit. 

The rank of tyranny will be forgot; 

War, famine, strife, and pinching poverty 

Will have become, like childish toys, outgrown — 

Diseases, dim traditions of the past, 

And all this flesh— now vile— insensibly 

Have lost its aches and pains, and grown to be 

At last a fair and holy temple, fit 

For pure, angelic spirits to reside. 

Defneter. 

Scarcely can I believe such wondrous things 
On this sad earth will ever be. 

Pro. I know 

The heart that ever hopes is called a fool — 
Fit only to be duped; but sure as noon 
Succeeds the morn, so will these things yet be ; 



26 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



They are the leaves and flowers that grow forth 

In proper season on the Tree of Life. 

We now are blindly toiling at the roots, 

But ages hence will see above our heads 

The spreading branches and the ripened fruit. 

Chorus. O glorious day ! 

Earth moves along 
Upon its ever upward-tending way. 

With joyful song 

We bless each day 
That speeds it on its upward-tending way. 

Pro. 'Tis true each day that dawns upon the earth 
Repeats no more the details of the last — 
It labors now with new and great events. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 27 



ACT III. 

Scene — Same as before. The Nymphs of the Morning inform Prome- 
theus of the long-looked'for Champion, who has at last appeared in 
the West. 

Eonian Nymphs. 

Over mountain, over plain, 
Over land and pathless main, 

With lightsome steps we speed. 
Thro' the cool and dewy air, 
Ere the last star fades afar, 

Our course we onward lead — 
Making the way for Helios. 

Not a moment may we waste, 
Round the earth we quickly haste, 

With signs of coming day. 
Rosy tints and gentle sound. 
Spreading softly, far around 

O'er the face of morning gray — 
Making the way for Helios. 

Pro. Maidens of the morning bright and beautiful, 

Seest thou in thy wide flight aught new or strange ? 

Boreia. So swiftly we flee 

Little leisure have we 
Man's doings to see. 
As we hasten by 
They slumbering lie- 
Dead to their misery. 



28 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Austeria. Where silence has been 

I lately have seen 
Activity keen. 
Man's slumber, it seems, 
Has broken in dreams 
Newly lit with strange gleams. 

Eonian Nymphs. 

Of late from out the distant West, 
Beyond the " Islands of the Blest," 

A champion bold has come. 
With valiant arm and towering crest, 
On — ever towards the effete East, 

He nears the rising sun. 

Pro. Ye rosy nymphs, whose lips are pure and fair 
As tinted shells that drink the ocean tide, 
Whose murmurs are as solemn yet more sweet — 
Know ye the glorious day is not far hence 
That shall disperse this dark but waning night ! 
A prophecy there was, of old, which once 
The ancient Titan, Themis, taught to me : 
"One da}' a champion, from the people born, 
With god-like powers, from the West shall come, 
And break the cursed chains of tyranny." 
Thus doth this ancient prophecy come true. 
Deliverance will be ere long at hand ; 
For even now my riven chest feels not 
The binding staple's thrall, and on my wrists 
These once huge chains have shrunk to gossamer. 

Eonian Nymphs. 

High upon the Western world, 
Behold ! new colors are unfurled — 

The Champion appears ! 
The cause of Truth is marching on. 
The world each day is being won — 

With spoils of other years. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



29 



Chorus. The sun from out the Eastern ocean 

Shone dimly thro' the night; 
But from its later, higher station, 
It floods the earth with light. 

Echo. Daylight first dawned on Orient shores ; 

But with the growing light 
It westward moved, and thus the East 
Was shrouded first in night. 

Nephele. Another day has dawned — 

A brighter than the last : 
It casts a brilliance forward 
And a shadow o'er the Past. 

Hyale. But other days shall brighten. 

Better far than this. 
Man's toil and burden lighten, 
And life will seem not all amiss. 

Pro. Upon the Eastern shores Empire first stood, 
And westward still has traveled with the Sun, 
Until, e'en as the setting sun throws back 
Upon the tired world a softer glow — 
A holier light, — so now the pensive hours 
Of this serene earth-twilight has begun. 
And early morning's barbarous strife must cease. 

Chorus. But speak to us that secret word 

That has been kept so long unheard. 



Pro. That secret dread, before whose awful power 
The race of tyrants tremble and shall fall, 
Is but the secret of the Multitude ! 
Who soon shall simply and sublimely say : 
" All power is of us, and is ours alone." 
This even now seems borne upon the breeze. 
And madly strives for force and utterance. 



30 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



Chorus. Would we could wreathe 

In proper lines 
Th' elusive thought 

That Man divines, 
And fain would breathe — 

But yet can not. 

Pro. Know ye these songs we scarcely breathe — these thoughts 
We only to ourselves, half-smothered, think 
Somehow find root and growth it other's minds — 
Spreading like unseen thistles in the wind — 
Till when we bravely speak them out, we find 
The same from other lips had halfway crept. 

Hyale. There's some mysterious chain 

That binds all souls together. 



Echo. 



Like some etherial main 

Whose waves move with the weather. 



Nephele. As zephyrs from the rose-leaves 

Go fraught with like perfume, 
So this thought-wave now breathes 
To Man his coming doom. 

Pro. Beneath the overhanging mists I see 

E'en now upon the troubled earth strange signs 
Foreboding new and great events. To heaven 
It casts no more its old accustomed look. 

Chorus. We see small groups of men 

Talk solemnly awhile — 
Whose looks do in the end 
Develop into smiles. 



Pro. Long have we waited, but ere long the Earth 
Shall see the full-blown flower of its hopes. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 31 

Echo. Out in the distant West — 

Where Nature yields its best — 
A child from Tyranny was born. 

It dreamed of Freedom's might — 

Has dared maintain its right, 
And holds the Old World up to scorn. 

Pro. The subtle breath of this sweet Iviberty 

Has touched upon and breathed a malady 
Into the sickly hearts of human kind ; 
And, like as poison pricked into the blood 
Drives out the deadh' venom of disease, 
So now this gentle remedy bids fair 
To cure the world of its great present ill. 



32 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 



ACT lY. 

Scene — Same as before. Hercules, the Champion long-prophesied^ 
arrives, breaks the fetters that have confined the God, Prometheus , 
and sets him free. 

The Hesperides. 

Out of the far-off West we come, 
Beyond where Atlas holds the dome 
Of heav'n upon his shoulders bare ; 
From out those glorious gardens fair, 
Where breezes whisk and whisper low 
On golden apples as they grow, 
Where heav'n inhales the rich perfume, 
As sumbeams dream on Summer's bloom — 
From that fair land we come — we go — 
From where Karth's golden apples grow. 

Dryades. High and higher still we climb, 

Far above the oak and pine, 
Fleet of foot, but faint of limb — 

On, and onward still ! 
In the leafy shade we lay 
Whisp'ring loves and verses stray, 
When tones of a sublimer hymn 

Our startled ears did fill. 

Nymphs of the Air. Whither, O where. 
Thro' these unending 

Realms of air 
Are we now tending ? 

Is't Destiny 
Marks out our flight ? 

Blindly we fly — 
On— thro' the night. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 33 



Demeter. Even as the peaceful sky that heralds oft 
The deadly hurricane or earthquake shock, 
So now the hushed world appears to me. 

Spirits of the Deep. 

Something has stirred 

The depths below ; 
The Earth has heard 
That fatal word— 

" Liberty ! " 
The heaving sea, 

With many a throe, 
Moans " Liberty ! " 
The despot's pall ; 
The cure for all 

Earth's keenest woe. 
Something has driven 

Us out of the depths 
Upward — towards heaven. 
To heights more sublime, 

With faltering steps. 
On— upward we climb ! 

Chorus. At last the glad Earth seems to smile — 

As tho' ensnared in Beauty's wile. 

Pro. Am I confined here still ? Do these huge chains 
Indeed weigh down my limbs, or do I dream ? 
Tho' bound, I am not far from being free. 

Chorus. Ye, whose bright eyes reflect the Sun, 
Look ye — behold the champion 

Now climbs the rugged height ! 
He nearest to the Gods has come. 
And in their presence yet shall roam — 

A shining star of light. 

L»fC. 



34 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 

Demeter. 

Prometheus, now is thy delivery — 
Altho' the weight of ages has withheld 
Thy onward course, and made thy soul to feel 
A soaring hope chained to a deep despair, 
Rejoice, for now thy freedom is at hand. 

Pro. 'Tis well; and better is it to rejoice 

And drink our joy from Future's gauzy wing 
Than fondly wait till fickle Time alights ; 
For then, perchance, the honey of our flower 
Will turn to gall. 

Demeter. Strike up the joyful sound'-; 

Let poets sing, and music's lofty strain 
Proclaim the glorious theme, "Freedom to Men! 

Pro. Like all good things in life, the best comes last. 
Tho' tardy, it is welcome none the less. 

The Muses. From Tempe's vale 

And Helicon's lone shrine 

Again we spring. 

Long used to wail, 
O'er cold neglect to pine, 

Once more we sing. 

A nobler strain 
Of new and better themes 

Breathes from the Past. 

The highest vane 
Of human hopes and dreams 

Is reached at last. 

Not Helen fair 
Nor old Eneas' name 

Now loads our tongue ; 

The deeds of war, 
The hero's single fame 

Has long been sung. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 35 



Not one brave heart 
Nor one fair woman's face 

Now stirs our wings ; 

A higher art 
And more perfected grace 

Seeks grander things. 

Too great is Earth, 
With all its human needs 

And hopes unfurled, 

To let the worth 
Of one man's faith and deeds 

Eclipse the world. 

For centuries 
A silence we may keep 

Like that of death ; 

Then waking, rise 
To chant those dreams of sleep 

With waking breath. 

This life of ours 
But inspirations are 

On which spring forth 

From heavenly bowers 
The thoughts and things too rare 

For worldly birth. 

We pause, perchance, 
We sleep, but never die. 

Each new return 

Marks an advance — 
Higher the course we fly, 

Fiercer we burn. 

No idle dream 
Now wakes our lyre again 

In tender call ; 

Henceforth our theme 
Will be not Man— but Men ; 

Not one — but all. 



36 PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 

We hail the star 
That heralds better things 

And grander deeds ; 

Ancestry's scar, 
The envious, bitter stings 

And poisonous seeds, 

That choke the earth 
And stint the heart of Man 

Must now give way. 

We sing the birth 
Of Freedom's generous plan — 
Of Manhood's sway. 

Hercules. 

At last I see before my eager eyes 

The glorious task for which I was brought forth. 

Ages have groaned and waited helplessly ; 

But now behold ! the mighty deed is done. 

Beneath the yoke of unjust tyranny 

The leader of mankind shall bow no more ; 

I break the chains — behold Prometheus free ! 

Chorus. Break, break the cursed chains 

And let the God be free. 
Let tyrants know 'tis not in vain 
We seek for liberty. 

Nymphs of the Air. 

Take, take the glorious news. 

And bear it to the sea. 
Where one doth gain the many lose — 

All lose when none are free. 

Spirits of the Deep. 

Wake, wake the sound, ye waves. 
And bear it o'er the sea ; 

Foul tyranny is in its grave. 
And Man at last is free. 



PROMETHEUS UNBOUND. 37 



Dryades. Breathe, breathe, ye forest leaves, 

That spread on every tree. 
The Earth her highest hope receives — 
Behold Prometheus free ! 

Pro. Earth, Air, and Sea, and all ye living forms 
That dvs'ell in either realm, and e'er can feel 
A sense of joy, come nov^; rejoice with me! 

Hercules. 

The highest deed that human hand can do 
Has now been done. The shackles, old as time, 
That have weighed down and bound the limbs of Man 
Lie wrenched, broken and pow'rless at his feet. 

Demeter. 

The world is free ! 

Pro. And this is liberty ! 

How sweet, let those who taste and feel its joys 
Alone declare— none else can estimate! 
How joyfully my lungs drink in these draughts 
Of heavenly air, and all my soul expands ! 
Could all men taste the sweets of liberty, 
What a gigantic stride the world would take ! 
And so 'twill be. 

The mighty Ananke 
Of ages past hath now redeemed our hopes. 
And shown itself to be, blind tho' it seemed— 
In truth we were the ones that could not see — 
That stern Necessity, whose deep-laid schemes 
Unsparing force alone could consummate. 
Force, Fate, God— call 't what ye will, — 
It has its mighty purpose to fulfill. 
And is the source and end of all things still. 



'^ 



^^s-^ 



THE END. /sW/\ 



MAY 6 1901 



